


Light and Shadow

by MxMearcstapa



Series: F!Dimileth Week 2020 [2]
Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Blood, Canonical Character Death, Death, Dimileth Week (Fire Emblem), Dimileth Week 2020, F/M, Fire Emblem: Three Houses Blue Lions Route Spoilers, Flash Fic, Flash Fiction, Hands, Trauma, Whump, apex of the world, no beta wie die like Glenn, oath of the dagger, stab wounds, there are a lot of intense feelings going on here, under 1k
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-14
Updated: 2020-10-14
Packaged: 2021-03-08 04:08:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 594
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26999416
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MxMearcstapa/pseuds/MxMearcstapa
Summary: He regarded her with nothing short of surprise. She had not taken his hand in quite a long time. They were as warm as he remembered, her grip as firm. She squeezed tightly. Looked to the floor. Gently, she pulled him through the doorway.The message was clear.Do not look back.In which Byleth's hands are the only steady things in the aftermath of Enbarr.For Dimileth Week 2020. Day 2, "may our hands cling forevermore."
Relationships: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd & Edelgard von Hresvelg, Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/My Unit | Byleth
Series: F!Dimileth Week 2020 [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1968583
Comments: 4
Kudos: 61





	Light and Shadow

**Author's Note:**

> CW: death, trauma, blood, stab wounds, whump, there's just a lot of intense feelings going on here
> 
> MAJOR BLUE LIONS/AZURE MOON ROUTE SPOILERS. 
> 
> For Day 1, I wrote something super fluffy, so apparently all my suppressed angst rolled into this piece (and honestly, some of the ones to come).

The dagger embedded itself into his chest with a _squelch_.

The wound was not deep, nor was it fatal—or maybe it was, and he couldn’t tell from the shock.

All the same, it paralyzed him.

He didn’t recall removing the dagger—only seeing it clatter to the floor, stained with blood. The dagger, El’s dagger, the dagger he had given her all those years ago to cut her own path, the dagger he had returned to her only days prior, was now covered in his blood. In the corner of his vision, Areadbhar twitched, covered in blood, too. El’s blood. In the darkness at the base of the throne, the stains were indistinguishable.

Perhaps she had not meant to throw it, maybe her hand just slipped—

The sound of footfalls on the tile pulled him back. The Professor. _Byleth_. She was walking away. The enemy general was dead, the battle over, and she was leaving. Dimitri left the dagger where it had fallen and hastened after Byleth, the idea of being alone—no, without _her_ —so overwhelming that it sucked the air from his lungs.

She opened the door, and daylight spilled into the dark room. The warmth made him shiver.

Byleth turned, illuminated by the sun. He wasn’t certain why he had expected her face to be neutral—he had grown so used to searching for the smallest changes, in marveling at her smiles, in desperately ignoring the pain in her eyes as he pushed her away—but her dismay surprised him. She had neither taken joy in nor felt indifferent towards what they had done. She had not wanted it to end like this.

When their eyes met, her gaze softened further. Dimitri could only imagine what she read in his expression, still reeling as he was.

It had happened so quickly—it almost couldn’t be real, could it?

He had reached out his hand to her, she had smiled, and then—

The war, over.

Edelgard, gone.

Dimitri started to turn back, he needed to be certain—

The warmth of Byleth’s hand against his made him pause.

He regarded her with nothing short of surprise. She had not taken his hand in quite a long time. They were as warm as he remembered, her grip as firm. She squeezed tightly. Looked to the floor. Gently, she pulled him through the doorway.

The message was clear.

_Do not look back._

Stepping forward, Dimitri turned to face the sun.

Even as they walked into the cheering crowd, Byleth did not let go of his hand. They stood a moment on the steps to the throne room, blinking into the dazzling light. The echo of the roaring acclaim, the din of the crowd—it was too much after so much silence, so much dark. There was so much elation, yet Dimitri could not find it in him to be joyful.

The fighting had ended, yes. But the cost. The potential. The alliance. The _friendship_. There was something, a look in Edelgard’s eyes, that said she had _finally_ understood, and yet—

And yet the dead were still restless, and Dimitri could no longer bear it.

He trembled and shut his eye.

Byleth stepped closer, her grip on his hand tightening. He bent slightly, to speak softly in her ear.

“Please,” he breathed. “Please do not let go of my hand.”

Her free hand brushed his cheek, and he leaned into her warmth.

“Never,” she whispered back, and pressed her cheek to his.

Too soon, she pulled away, and, hand in hand, they descended the stairs.

**Author's Note:**

> Edelgard? In *my* Dimileth? It's more common than you'd think. 
> 
> I wanted to touch on a moment that was a little more raw--that Dimileth and romance overall is more than pining and post-game fluff (though that's definitely a part of it). Sometimes, the bravest acts of love are being there for someone who is hurting and helping them move forward. 
> 
> Thank you for reading. <3 Hopefully this didn't fill you with a terrible rage ^_^;;


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